The final season of House of Cards is not the glorious goodbye it should have been

The sixth season of House Of Cards was always supposed to belong to Claire Underwood (Robin Wright). “My turn,” she told the audience in the final seconds of season five, as she took over the presidency from her husband, Frank (Kevin Spacey). At the time, nobody on the show knew quite how prophetic that statement was or that Wright would have to carry the entire show. In what should be her moment to shine, Wright has to spend an unfair amount of time trying to steady a rocky ship.

The thoughts seem rather blunt, as if we’re getting the first draft of the scripts

When Kevin Spacey was accused of sexual assault, in late 2017, this season was already in production. The scramble to write Frank Underwood, the show’s lead character, entirely out of the season has given it a hurried, uncertain feel, starting ideas but not having enough time for them to properly percolate. It’s not that Frank is missed – his character and Spacey’s performance were becoming increasingly cartoonish – but removing one of the pillars of the show leaves everything in danger of collapse.

The start of the season reveals that Frank has died, which has caused Claire no great heartache. She has other things to worry about: large parts of the country are furious at the idea of a female president, especially an unelected one, and threats made against the president have increased dramatically. She’s also locked in battle with two old friends, siblings Bill and Annette Shepherd (Greg Kinnear and Diane Lane), who have amassed a fortune in military contracts, media and other businesses. All that money has given them a lot of power, including, they believe, the right to influence the president and her policies.

These two themes – the way America treats a female president and the way big business treats any president – are the strongest in the series, and some of the most interesting of any season so far. Claire is met with sexist foolishness everywhere she goes, with assumptions she can’t strategise a war or have ideas that aren’t simply left over from her husband. The best scenes are between Lane and Wright, comparing notes on fighting for power in worlds that don’t want women to have it and needling each other’s weak spots in a way only old friends who’ve become polite enemies can. They’re far more interesting than any of the blustering of Frank and his many foes. The Shepherds believe that influence is something they’re entitled to, not to be secretly schemed for, but demanded. The scripts examine whether occupying the most powerful office in the world necessary means that power is really yours or if you’re just doling it out to others.

The exploration of this probably would have been deeper if the writers had enjoyed more time for script development. As it is, the thoughts seem rather blunt, as if we’re getting the first draft of the scripts instead of ones that have been honed. There are also lingering remnants of the sillier bits of the Frank Underwood years. There’s an almost Keystone Cops-ish effort to kill a politician who is causing Claire difficulties. It’s frustrating how frequently the answer to a problem is now to try to murder it. The show was always better when Frank and Claire were getting themselves out of scrapes with scheming villainy, rather than killing. Murder should really be a last resort.

Only the first five episodes were made available for review, so we don’t yet know where Claire will wind up, though it’s likely somewhere bad. Based on the early episodes, the final season is not the glorious goodbye it should have been, or the one the show’s best character and best actor deserved, but there’s still enough of that early elegant cruelty to see it across the line. House Of Cards could have tumbled completely with the sudden loss of Frank, but it stands firm to the end… just.